Looking down
the ghosts wonder
why we sweat the small stuff.
They ask each other
why we don’t take longer vacations
better ones
with less clothes on?
The ghosts no longer
see the point in clothes.

The ghosts know the score
but they don’t understand people anymore
even though they used to play for our team.
Since they got upgraded
(their term, not mine)
they seem to lack the empathy
they used to have
back when they walked among us.

The ghosts now look down
and can’t wrap their ephemeral heads
around the stupid shit we do
but at least appreciate
that we still cultivate bos grunniens on earth
which means the ghosts get to experience
yak farts,
their very favorite thing
on this plane of existence.